IF chaste and pure devotion of my youth,
Or glory of my April-springing years,
Unfeignèd love in naked simple truth,
A thousand vows, a thousand sighs and tears ;
Or if a world of faithful service done,
Words, thoughts and deeds devoted to her honour,
Or eyes that have beheld her as their sun,
With admiration ever looking on her ;
A life that never joyed but in her love,
A soul that ever hath adored her name,
A faith that time nor fortune could not move,
A Muse that unto heaven hath raised her fame ;
Though these nor these deserve to be embraced,
Yet, fair unkind, too good to be disgraced.